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y. V 







THE GROWTH IN THE DESERT 









The Panorama of Sleep 


Soul and Symbol 


BY 

NINA PICTON 

w 

Author of 

^*Ar THE THRESHOLD'^ {Uura ^arhorn) 

Illustrations by 
REMINGTON W. LANE 


19 0 3 

THE PHILOSOPHIC COMPANY 
NEW YORK 



sJpvRARY of lONaRliSS 
i'Hii Oopies 

OCT. 16 ia05 

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INTERNATIONAL COPYRIGHT 

J903 

BY THE PHILOSOPHIC COMPANY. 


THE PANORAMA OF SLEEP 


^ J 




TO 

EDMOND PICTON 


Whose aid, encouragement, and sympathy 
have furthered my work 



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CONTENTS 


Preface 

U The Growth in the Desert - - 13 

2* The Open Crater ----- 21 
3* The Children of Fancy - - - 33 

4. The Flaming Falchion - - - 43 

5. The Garden of Pleasure - - - 53 

6. With Warp and Woof - - - 61 

7* Overthrow of the Temple - - 69 

8. A Tardy Ovation ----- 83 
9* A Migration - -- -- --91 

The One at the Helm - - - - 97 

n. The Mystic Chart - - - - - 105 

12. The Mount of Purpose - - - U3 

f3. In the Moon^s Circlet - - - - f2I 

14. The Counterpart - - - - - 1 31 

f5. The Wraiths of Time - - - - \ 41 

16. The Bridge of Destiny - - - 155 


ILLUSTRATIONS 


u 

Frontispiece 

/ 


The Growth in the Desert 

2. 

The Open Crater - - - - 

- 21 ' 

3. 

The Flaming Falchion - - - 

- 43 

4. 

The Garden of Pleasure - - 

- 53 

5. 

With Warp and Woof - - - 

- 61 

6. 

The Overthrow of the Temple 

- 69 

7, 

The Mystic Chart - - - - 

- f05 

8. 

The Bridge of Destiny - - - 

- 155 y 


PREFACE 


I 





PREFACE. 

^^Dreams are a divine sign. They come 
from God I** 

These words, falling from the lips of an 
Episcopal rector, prompted me to record 
these sixteen dreams, dreamed consecu- 
tively and as clearly as if sent for a 
purpose. Throughout them all I felt the 
action of the soul, the symbol of the Eter- 
nal, the inspiration of spirit. 

No law of daily association has accounted 
for them. Their trend is neither fantastic 
nor unguidable; and as in waking hours 


we keep our ideas within bound and rea- 
son, tinder the reign of concentration, pur- 
pose, and attention, so the tinconscions 
cerebral process by which these dreams 
have been evolved and from which the 
memory has now constructed and colored 
allegorical shapes, has faithfully played its 
part, and strengthened my belief in their 
significance* 

The Author. 


10 



I. 

THE GROWTH IN THE DESERT 


I 





I. 

THE GROWTH IN THE DESERT 


I feared to set oat alone^ the way was so 
drear and forbidding. A murky sky hung 
over me, and the sombre grayness was 
reflected on the pebbles in the path and 
on the rocks that lay piled in chaotic con- 
fusion before, behind, and about me. 

A path stretched before, showing, at 
every few yards, a winding that made my 
eyes dizzy to look upon. Gray was it, 
shell-strewn, and devoid of vegetation — of 
those straggly bits of moss or weed that 
spring up unawares. 

**1 need a companion on the way!^^ I 
exclaimed in affright. ^^Something lies 
afar, something toward which I must 
travel. But the guidance, the association,, 
must be regarded.^^ 

Then a small voice spake. 

Look where I would, no possessor met 
mine eye. No straining ear was required 
13 


H Panorama of Sleep. 

to hear it; the words tapped like fine 
hammer-strokes npon my consciousness. 

needest thyself alone; compan- 
ionship is fatal. If thought cometh to 
thee, let thy feet be shod with its momen- 
tum, and speed thee on the way.^^ 

Irresolute I stood. The air became full 
of voices; dissuasion breathed from some; 
others wafted encouragement. 

^^Thy choice queried the small voice. 
^^Will thou turn back, or proceed?"^ 

I looked behind. The city, replete with 
life, lay there. From chimney-top, from 
storied wall, the friendly blue smoke curled. 
Between those clustered dwellings, laughter, 
life, variety knew an abiding place. 

A pall seemed to separate the path in 
which I stood from the world behind me. 
Even the skies — God^s skies, that knew no 
division, but stretched, a mighty arch, 
above me — had lost their noonday color- 
ing, and had faded into a gray dawn, like 
the early day. My garb looked gray; my 
hands, restless and cold, were of like hue 
as I held them up before me. 


The Growth in the Desert* 15 

^^Mtist q«oth I* this circuit- 
Otis routCt in this grim perspective, what 
awaits me?^^ 

^^Advance and see/* the small voice 
tirged. 

Girt with an unknown strength, pos- 
sessed of sudden resolution, I obeyed. 

For many paces the v/ay was endurable. 
My feet carelessly ttirned aside both pebble 
and flinty rock; while the outlook was too 
new to pall, and hope encotiraged. 

But human frailty was asserting itself. 
Endurance soon became a pain and a 
horror. Narrower and more shelving ap- 
peared the way; and on either side the 
path the grim rocks seemed carven faces 
that had petrified in that solitude. 

^Tarther,^^ urged the voice. 

I looked at my feet. They were 
scratched and bleeding; the sandals on 
them scarcely held together. 

Still the voice urged. 

I stood weary and uncertain, not know- 
ing the outcome of another step. 

Then a Presence drew near. All about 


t6 Panorama of Sleep* 

the air a radiation proceeded — a force 
electric, thrilling, and sparring* 

Some one seemed to take my hand* 
How lifelike the contact! Naaght bat 
strength coaid ensae from a grasp like 
that. 

Forward I stepped. What thoagh the 
flint-rocks pierced! What thoagh pain 
and feebleness alternated! The Presence 
was there, and its proximity emboldened 
me. For it was not given mine eyes to 
see: a veil, gaarding an anseen mystery, 
divided as. Bat the ineffable love that 
breathed in those accents, the potency of 
spirit, was never to be forgotten, never to 
be anheeded. 

I was nearing something. I felt it. My 
steps were being controlled by the Power; 
my eyes seem to be directed to the right of 
the path. And I stopped and saw. Choked 
almost to nothingness by the gray rock, 
straggling to free itself from the dreari- 
ness sarroanding it, stood a figtree. 
Green with spring verdare, yoang, tender, 
and life-appearing it floarished. Tiny 


The Growth in the Desert. M 


frtJit was on it. No comelier plant had 
looked from rich and pleasant soil. 

With a sense of elation, I bent toward it. 
Here was a living thing ! I was not alone ! 
Natnre smiled from the green leaves, the 
tiny shoots, the snpple height; and its 
appearance relieved the grayness. 

Tis a lesson Y* I exclaimed. ^"0 
proof of Wisdom! Encompassed by ob- 
stacles, deprived of stm-rays, of rain, of 
heat thotj thrivest. What most be said of 
me, spirit-endowed, will-created, conscious 
— chosen, mayhap, for attainment ? 

Then spake the voice : 

**li is well. Thy tnrning-point lies here.^^ 
I plucked a leaf from the tree, and held 
it in my hand. Aroused, stimulated, I 
journeyed onward. 

Far in the distance rose a city-wall. Its 
color gleamed like gold. 



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THE OPEN CRATER 




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THE OPEN CRATER 











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IL 

THE OPEN CRATER 


By the Ionian Isles, where the bine Medi- 
terranean laps the fertile shore, we sat and 
waited* Something had led ns hither. 
For we remembered only the life aboard 
the slow-toiling vessel, then the morning — 
morning on that shore, so fair to look npon, 
so golden, so balmy. 

I had opened my eyes with a sense of 
relief. Who wonid not, after the confine- 
ment on board ship, the space immeasnr- 
able abont, the dome above, tantalizing, 
fretting, and limiting the senses ! The 
olive-trees held snn-shafts npon their 
glossy leaves; the yonng grapes and the 
pomegranate were warm with life. Breezes 
odorons with spicy gatherings were wafted 
to ns; and in wonderment and delight we 
rnbbed onr eyes at onr coming into what 
seemed the remotest spot on the face of the 
globe. 


21 


22 Panorama of Sleep* 

For toward us no creature walked, about 
the low-branching trees no young child 
sported. And yet the herbage, green and 
fresh, seemed waiting the treading of feet. 

Still sat we with a knowledge that some 
one would soon be there; an inhabitant 
that would acquaint us with the mystic 
silence of those shores, the progress beyond, 
and the history of the isle. 

The sea crept seductively toward the 
shore, with a momentary precision and 
abandonment. Far out on the blue ex- 
panse, where the background of morning- 
radiance made clear the view, white sails 
flitted. Was one our vessel? And why, 
and under whose command, had it borne us 
so mysteriously to that distant shore? 

I looked at my companion and fellow- 
voyager. Upon her face a calm as soulful 
as the harmony of that morning rested, and 
her hands, held lightly in her lap, were 
tremulous with feeling. 

"^What moveth thee thus?^' I asked, 
intent upon her manner, her kindling eye, 
and repression of speech. 


23 


The Open Crater* 

**1 hear the sound of footsteps/^ she re- 
plied; ^^some one cometh toward us, and 
he shall be our guide.^^ 

Thinking her speech but a, fanciful out- 
burst, I laughed low and long* 

My mirth changed not her attitude, 
v^hich was intent upon hearing* 

We were waiting* I felt that, and had, 
from the moment I stepped upon the shore* 
My companion's ear appeared more in tune 
with Nature than mine, her face more hope- 
ful, more assured* Through the low-Iying 
grass and creeping herbage, I heard a rust- 
ling* It came softly, like the flapping of a 
bird^s wing, followed by a treading: light, 
yet magnetic with earth-current* 

^^He comes declared my fellow-voy- 
ager* "*Now we shall know!"" Rising, 
she stood and looked toward him* 

A stranger, tall, benignant, and clothed 
in garb of black, after an ancient and grace- 
ful fashion, came toward us* His eye was 
intelligent, full and clear as the blue of the 
bending skies* Upon his forehead, broad 
and deep, the hand of Peace seemed lying. 


24 Panorama of Sleep. 

and the silken Instre of his jetty locks made 
striking his pale^ sweet countenance. 

^^Come!^^ cried the Shade, in a voice 
like music; » ^^long hast thou waited.'^ 

We advanced with a sense of trust and 
elation. The fair isle would now be 
viewed. Beyond, treasures lay, homes 
of comfort and of plenty, civilization, — 
everything that buoys the human heart and 
step. 

Into a path, narrow, yet smooth, we step- 
ped. It wound away from the shore with a 
serpentine lengthening. On the way, we 
passed ruins, debris, and clouds of peculiar 
sifted matter with much of the odor of 
sulphur. Columns of marble, broken and 
marred, lay near the roadway. Fragments 
of doorways, cornice, and gilded tower were 
piled against high walls, beyond which the 
sun sported in the blue heaven. 

Surely it was a city; one that had been 
fair and populous. For we passed many 
stricken and laid low by some terrible 
decree. Upon several a fear had stamped 
an impress too terrible to look long on. 


The Open Crater* 25 

Upon otherst a peace born of resignation 
had been traced. 

And the Shade walked by otir side, 
speaking of the city, its streets, its devasta- 
tion, as of one well-acquainted with its 
previous grandeur. No sorrow appeared 
with him, no bitterness, nor yearning. Had 
he not known one tie, one hope, to bind him 
to some of those shapeless, silent remains, 
lying so close to the frowning walls, or 
clutching with death-throes the broken 
columns ? 

I longed, yet dreaded, to know. For the 
human sympathy that pervades every 
breast, might have opened his silence and 
disturbed our circuit. 

Whither go we?^^ asked my fellow- 
voyager, interest clothing each word. 

^^Afar from the city, to a place where 
thou shalt know the mystery of this devas- 
tation, and where, if thou art obedient, 
knowledge shall be given to thee.^^ 

^T am subservient to thee, O Shade 
she answered. And I murmured a low 
acquiescence. 


26 Panorama of Sleep, 

And now the way became steeper. 
Looking back, we saw that the city lay 
beneath ns, that the broken columns, 
leaning walls, and piles of rubbish were a 
terrible reality and mockery in that morn- 
ing radiance. Those ruined temples, those 
upheaved mounds, held secrets to be 
guarded until eternity. That mother, with 
her flock of frightened little ones, huddling 
them like a hen beneath her view, poured 
forth yearnings, hopes, and prayers to the 
Power above, 

I looked not back again. The Past lay 
sealed, the Present was solemn, and the 
Future veiled to my vision. The way 
became, steeper, narrower, more stifling. 
At times, the smoke almost blinded me. 

Climbing slowly, urged softly to endur- 
ance by the Shade, we drew near to the 
mouth of the huge cone-like mass, that had 
bellowed its voice, and sent its fiery and 
destructive breath upon the islanders, 
unaware and frivolous. A thin smoke still 
curled from its mouth, a blue fire now 
and then appeared. 


27 


The Open Crater* 

thott look into the crater 
asked the Shade* ^^Stich a sight may never 
more be given to thee, and thy advent upon 
this shore proclaims it thy privilege*^^ 

As he addressed me, I hesitated* What 
if the monster within its base chose again 
to speak? Why should I be spared what 
had befallen so many? 

**ls it safe?^^ I asked* 

**Hast thou no trust ?^^ he queried* 
^^Do I wish to add to those stricken ones be- 
low? I had thought thee better inclined*^^ 
With penitence I mtirmtired: 

""Not that, 0 Shade* But who knowest 
all the secrets of Nature, her fickle moods, 
her lavishness or curse ?^^ 

""Leave it to others than thyself,'^ was 
his reply* ""Dost thou wish to see?^' 

I acquiesced quietly, with more reliance 
on his guidance* 

Coming near, he took my hand, and that 
of my companion* Leading us to the 
crater^s brink, he stood, and murmured 
aloud a few words, unintelligible to us, but 
soft, musical, and direct* 


28 


Panorama of Sleep* 


^Tookr* cried he* 

And we peered into the earth-gnlf* It 
was dark, yawning, and stifling* Then 
saw we one below clothed in fire, tall, 
majestic, and King, as it seemed, of those 
lower earth-regions* 

‘"What doth he there?"" asked I, in 
awed whisper, fearing a horrible fate for 
him, convinced that he had been lowered 
there, perhaps by some enemy* 

“He is the Spirit of the Earth,"" replied 
my guide* “Every stratum of the worId"s 
surface is known to him* In abyss or plain, 
in crater or cave, he reigns supreme*"" 
“What worketh he there?"" asked my 
fellow-traveler* 

“He subdueth that mass, which threaten- 
eth another uprising* Years may elapse 
before it again gaineth voice* Until then, 
the Spirit makes it quiescent*"" 

“Whence cometh he?"" asked I* 
“Whence come we all ?"" he answered* 
“But he is supernatural, powerful; be- 
gotten, it seems, of fire and magic*"" 
“Nay,"" replied my guide, “thou begin- 


29 


The Open Crater. 

nest not to know what is abont thee. To 
him hath been given this power. May- 
hap something may come to thee; and to 
thee,^' he declared, looking at my fellow- 
traveler. ^^Htjndreds of years from now 
thott mayest be standing where I am, 
girt with a power never known to 
thee. Each one is created for some pnr- 
pose.^^ 

^^And thonr^ asked I, ^Vhat— r' 

Bnt he qnietly interrupted me: **lt is 
enough. Thou hast seen, and I have led 
thee. Henceforth, look with thine eyes; 
escape nothing. Penetrate the recesses of 
the earth. Soar above. All will be 
teaching to thee V* 

We descended the mountain-side, and 
traveling by the same circuitous route, 
we struck the path again, past the broken 
columns, past the leaning walls, past the 
men and women and children lying deep in 
silence, out of the city, and then upon the 
shore, where the blue waves lapped, where 
the herbage, the sandy soil, the pebbles, 
and the glory of sky and sunshine sang 


30 Panorama of Sleep. 

another song to me, and where, close to the 
shore, a vessel was moored, waiting to 
carry ns — whither? 


III. 

THE CHILDREN OF FANCY 



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IIL 

THE CHILDREN OF FANCY 


Some one gave me a gift, a cnrions one, 
by-the-bye, of dull leaden metal, ara- 
besqned in peculiar designs, and fashioned 
into a tall box; quite tall enough to push 
into the embrasure of my window, and 
afford me there a resting-place* 

^^You must never open it,^^ said the 
Giver. ^^When it wishes, the lid will, of 
its own accord, fly upward. Until then, 
cultivate no curiosity, but be trustful.^' 
Here was a peculiar position given to a 
daughter of Eve. Though much occupied 
at stated intervals, yet the sight of that 
box, silent, mysterious, and within daily 
view became a haunting desire at once 
to open and to understand. I busied my- 
self with books; I jotted down thoughts 
and phrases innumerable; but often and 
often I wrote ^^leaden box,^^ which showed 
in what direction my mind was tending. 
One day some one called to see me. I 
33 


34 


Panorama of Sleep* 

talked, langhed, and warmed with vivacity, 
— as I thought; yet painfully conscious, 
later, that I was artificial* 

What could I do? My visitor was star- 
ing at that leaden structure with eyes 
aglow and earnest* The thing was mag- 
netic to her as well as to me; for I saw that 
her footsteps were advancing toward it, 
and a volley of questions would soon storm 
my hearing. 

Where did you get it ?^' 

'^Sorne one left it here,^^ I answered 
quietly, with an attempt at indifference* 
**What do you do with it?^^ she con- 
tinued. ^Tt is so large and unwieldy*^^ 
^^Nothing, I just let it stand there* I 
may place papers in it some time* I am 
not sure yet*^' 

^*Just the thing for papers she ex- 
claimed* ^^May I see how deep it is?^^ 
And she almost lifted the lid* 

^Tlease do not,^' I replied, forgetting, 
in my desire to keep my promise, how 
mysterious I was; ^^no one ever opens it, 
I assure you*^^ 


35 


The Children of Fancy* 

**Just the reason why it shonid he/* she 
replied, looking cnrionsly at me, and fired 
with persistency* 

I was aware that I was piteous in my 
expression* I feared the disappearance of 
the box if all curiosity was not withheld* 

^^Sorne time you shall know,^^ I feverishly 
replied* shall tell you all; but not 
now, not now*^^ 

**lt doesnT matter, she returned stiffly,. 
*^onIy, I^m surprised at a hox creating such 
excitement*^^ 

**1 suppose it is strange,^^ I exclaimed,, 
meekly looking at my hands, which were 
cold and trembling; aware, too, that I was 
commonplace and terse in my remarks* 

Sooner than I imagined, I was alone. 
The swishing of her dress, the quick ^^good- 
bye,^^ and the creaking down the stairway 
told me I was free — free from interruption 
and questioning, with hurried thoughts 
and plans about the box, which, naturally,. 
I could foresee, was to excite further com- 
ment* 

All at once I heard whispers* Whence 


36 


Panorama of Sleep* 


came they? I looked abont me, behind 
my chair, thinking some one had suddenly 
come in; a servant, perhaps, or one of my 
household* No one was visible* 

Walking to the door, I opened it quickly, 
sure that one or two persons were waiting 
without* No ! 

Then I peered down the long corridor: 
the shadows were creeping in, and through 
the distant panes of glass at the far end, I 
saw the first star* How it twinkled ! And 
how the branches of the tree near the win- 
dow brushed the panes ! 

Re-entering, I saw all as before* The 
whispering had ceased; the box still stood 
in the window^s arch* 

^^Am I never to know?^^ thought I, cer- 
tain of something to be heard* 

As if in answer, I heard the whisperings 
once more* They appeared to come from 
the direction of the box, yet it remained 
immovable; by reason of its weight, of 
course* Even the lid did not tremble, but 
looked as if sealed for all time* 

Listening, I heard a confused murmur- 


37 


The Children of Fancy, 

ing, "^Something is in there/* I remarked; 
and I wondered if the gift of Pandora were 
coming to me, or if magic stirrotinded my 
life. 

Though painfully ctiriotis, I was aware 
that my fingers were not to touch the lid. 
**lt will open of itself/^ came the long- 
said words; ^^antil then, be trustful.'^ 

Sinking into a chair, I leaned forward 
upon the low table, where books, papers, 
and pamphlets lay in chaotic confusion. I 
toyed with a pencil. The wood felt pecu- 
liar to my touch. Some force seemed run- 
ning from my arm down to the pencil-tip. 
Suddenly I wrote, without consciousness 
of thought; but as if mapped out on my 
mental plate, I indited strange sayings, 
peculiar phrases, imaginings. 

Once more I heard the whisperings, and, 
looking about me, before me, on the table, 
directly in view, I saw graceful airy crea- 
tures of humanity, gleefully dancing and 
swaying as the candle flickered. 

^^Whom are ye?"^ I cried, looking intently 
at their laughing faces. 


38 Panorama of Sleep, 

live here, with yoaJ* 

^^Oh noT^ I answered, ready to relieve 
them and myself of an illwsion, 

^^Bnt it is trtte,^^ declared the foremost 
one; ^Ve have told you what you have 
just written. We like you, and aid you so 
far as we can,^^ 

‘^Strange visitors V* I exclaimed, — ^^it is 
that I choose to calf ye, — welcome V* For 
I liked the laughing faces, I liked the sway- 
ing and the dancing, and the tripping tones. 
Suddenly, I thought of the box. There 
it stood, the lid upraised, waiting, it 
seemed, for my inspection, 

I walked toward it. The little beings 
followed me. Then I noticed tiny wings 
uprising from each shoulder. They were 
gleeful and teeming with expression. 

Nothing was within the box, I passed 
my hand slowly up and down its smooth 
sides, thinking perhaps some secret- 
drawer, some spring, would suddenly re- 
ward me, 

^^How queer V* I exclaimed, feeling that 
I wore a disappointed look, and conscious 


The Children of Fancy* 39 

that a little winged creatnre, lilting on the 
lid, was peering at me. 

"^Nothing queer/* said he. **lt is onr 
home; for a while, at least. Some one sent 
ns. If yon treat ns kindly, we will remain. 
If not, we fly at a moment^s warning.^^ 

I looked at the little asserter in astonish- 
ment. He retnrned my glance bravely, 
and I called him to me. 

^^Do not leave me at all!^^ I pleaded. 
**lt is lonely here, and yon may not care to 
stay, bnt if yon will, I will be kind and talk 
always to yon.^' 

All abont me the little creatnres whirled; 
my brain felt clear, as if fresh dranghts of 
air had been inhaled. Mnch elation rested 
with me, mnch promise, and an ontlook I 
had never known. 

I opened my arms, and drew the little 
ones into my heart. 


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IV. 

THE FLAMING FALCHION 






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IV. 

THE FLAMING FALCHION 

It was night-time, and I saw no light of 
stars. The city was quaint and olden. 
About the low-storied dwellings a few dust- 
begrimed street lamps stood, but they 
served to make the place uncanny, not 
cheerful. 

I gathered the folds of my white draper- 
ies about me, and high in hand I waved 
the falchion that a stranger had lately pre- 
sented to me. Into the gloom I passed^ 
The flaming point made clear my way as 
at noonday. 

am followed,^^ thought I, and I turned 
and saw. 

Out of the midnight blackness about me 
a motley crowd stood revealed. Fantastic 
and barbaric were their garbs; mocking 
and demoniac their faces. The colors 
gleamed in that red-lighted hour like 
mysterious pigments on ancient canvas. 
In and out, with frenzied measure, the 
mazy concourse stepped. 

43 


44 


Panorama of Sleep. 

**Com^ with ttsT^ their jarring tones 
made aloud. '"Come, too far art thou 
ahead 

I waved the torch for answer, nor looked 
I back. To the high-road I advanced; 
the midnight did not affright me. 

Then, on either side of me wound the 
multitude. As far as eye could pierce, 
they stood. 

"Thou canst not pass now," said they, 
"thou bold one! We will hem thee in. 
Thy way shall be obstructed." Loud upon 
the silence jeered the voices, and peal after 
peal of Satanic mirth made faint my heart. 

Then waved I the torch from side to side. 
Before each leering face I flashed its 
brightness. 

Not one could stand the test. Shivering, 
as from northern blasts, crouching, as in 
sudden terror, remained they, until one 
afar found boldness to cry: 

"Thy flame will not last! Too soon 
shall it die, and naught but a blackened 
falchion wilt thou hold in thy hand, thou 
vain and foolish one !" 


The Flaming Falchion. 45 

I waved the torch. Brighter and more 
glowing became its light, and the multitude 
turned back. 

""None shall molest me now/' quoth I, 
half-atidibly; ""routed are they, and put to 
flight. My peace is secured." 

Close to mine ear came a voice. Soft, 
insinuating, it arrested my hearing: 

""Thoti art too tender, too yotmg, to 
traverse stich a road alone. The way is no 
new one to me. Let me direct thy steps, 
and save thee from perils by the road." 

Smooth as honey flowed the accents. A 
careful solicitude was in each phrase, and I 
marveled at his kindness. 

""I do not fear now," said I, ""all are 
gone — the ones that made trembling my 
steps. It is far; thoti wilt repent. Let 
me proceed alone." 

""Nay," softly spake the voice, ""It is 
given me to gnide thee. Shall I, or not ?" 

Then I turned, and held my falchion 
toward him. 

Why looked he away? Tall and grace- 
ful was he, with ha Ir as dark as the raven's 


46 


Panorama of Sleep, 

wmg. On the olive of his cheek a tinge of 
warm red rested, and the eye, in its side- 
long glance, seemed dark and rolling. 

Again I heard his voice. Some tremor 
was in it, I fancied, or a peculiar sense of 
disquietude, which came to me, intuitively, 
surely, and caused me to observe a like 
appearance in him, 

^^Why turnest thou away?^^ I asked, 
^^No forethought or merciful kindness 
should embarrass thee. Let me look upon 
thy face, I pray thee,^' And I awaited his 
inclination. 

**Thoti shalt; but let us hasten onward, 
A long distance lieth before. Too soon thy 
steps may flag, thy courage be counted 
naught,^^ 

The falchion I lifted high, but I did not 
see his eyes. Still were they turned aside, 
as if the light-rays blinded him. 

Far along that lonely road I traveled; 
potent and more subtile grew the stranger^s 
presence. 

**A road branches here,^" quoth he, 
^'easier and more accessible to thy feet. 


The Flaming Falchion. 47 

It leadeth to a city where thou canst rest 
and be content. Come, follow me V* 

I hesitated. The stranger had turned 
his face from me as before, and was eagerly 
peering out into the darkness. Three roads 
were there to be seen: the main road, 
which, strange to say, had grown narrower 
with the distance, and two forking ones, 
that looked broad and picturesque by the 
falchion^s flare. 

^^Come, we have little time,^^ said he. 
^^Trust thy steps to mine. Many have I 
led by this self-same route.^^ 

^^But I know thee not,^^ I declared. 
^^Never have I looked upon thy face. 
Something bids me leave thee and find 
alone the way. To what purpose has this 
flaming steel been given me? Canst thou 
say?"" 

**Let me extinguish it,"" boldly cried he. 
^^Thou needest no light with me. Too 
accustomed are mine eyes to darkness, 
and-"" 

But I straightway answered, while an 
ominous shiver accompanied the words 


48 Ifanorama of Sleep. 

this in hand, nanght can harm. 
Unmolested have I been, alert, possessed 
of marvelons endurance. Hold it in thy 
hand for one moment. Mayhap its magic 
power will come to thee.^' 

But an uneasiness, strange and sudden, 
seized him. As if pierced by a powerful 
sword, he turned away, and covered his 
eyes. 

Then a Force bade me delay not. 

must go** I exclaimed. ^^Rest is not 
yet for me.^^ Impulsively I advanced. 

With a cry as of one foiled, he grasped 
my arm. 

^^Never V* he hissed, and sought to stay 
me. "T have thee near; ihoomustnot go** 

^Tn the name of one that bids me come, 
I refuse thee! No aid cometh from thee, 
I am convinced,^' I cried, and in his eye I 
waved and held my flaming falchion. 

With a horrible cry he stepped back, 
quivering as if with fear. The light re- 
vealed his fantastic garb. Red was it, and 
checkered o^er with spots like gleaming 
green, baleful to the gaze. 


The Flaming Falchion* 49 

For the first time looked I into his face* 
Distorted, as if goaded to frenzy, with teeth 
clenched in rage, appeared he. And the 
eye? A glitter, unearthly in light, was 
there, a trocolent glare, that songht to fix 
with horrible certainty my gaze* 

Rallying, grasping with renewed coorage 
my falchion, I stepped and held it before 
him. 

The eye drooped — drooped ontil blinded 
by the brightness. Then groping, with 
quivering step and palsying frame, he 
fell backward. 

"^Come V* called the Power from afar. 

And with the swiftness of an antelope, I 
fled and left him by the way. 

To what country belonged he? 


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V. 


THE GARDEN OF PLEASURE 





THE GARDEN OF PLEASURE 









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V. 

THE GARDEN OF PLEASURE 

in/* suggested some one* And I 
opened the wicket-gate^ and stood within 
the enclosnre* 

Many shrnbs and trees were there, that 
impressed me as newly planted* Abont 
each base the soil looked loose and frnitfni, 
and the tree-bodies held their heads as 
prondly as if they had ever maintained a 
position there* 

Through the paths many people were 
walking to and fro, scanning one another 
curiously and significantly as they passed, 
and busying themselves with loudly ex- 
pressed disapproval or fair words, as the 
mood suited them* From all countries and 
climes appeared they* Indeed, the garden 
seemed a world, so vast was its space, so 
distant and unseen its boundaries* 

Through the shrubbery came the sound 
of laughter and mirth; care sat lightly, and 
53 


54 Panorama of Sleep. 

idleness was everywhere apparent. Some 
were tasting the rich fruits that hting from 
the inclining boughs, and delighting in the 
feast. 

To some the fruits gave a wildness of 
manner, a recklessness, that approached 
intoxication. To others, a maudlin con- 
dition, horrible and sad to contemplate. 

^^Why dost thou not eat?*^ asked one. 
^*Few are long in the garden without 
tasting. See, it is placed here for our 
taste and enjoyment T* 

But I nodded my head. I preferred to 
wait, to walk through, to observe the life 
within that enclosure. To me it was an 
education, a step that brought enlighten- 
ment. Women as fair as houris wandered 
by. Beautiful their faces, graceful their 
steps; but the absence of character was 
conspicuous. Laughing, jesting, and sing- 
ing they passed by, some calling to me, 
others complaining of my serious face, that 
seemed out of place in such a gathering. 

^^She will soon lose that,^^ exclaimed 
one, ^^after she has remained longer. 


The Garden of Pleasure. 


55 


One cannot be heavy or sober here. It is 
all gay, buoyant, free."' And she trilled 
lightly a song until the indwellers laughed 
and clapped their hands with pleasure. 

The fountains played in uniform meas- 
ure, showers of iridescent drops fell from 
their heights; and about the stone-encircling 
copings sat many mortals, trailing lengths 
of crimson roses upon the glistening 
surface. 

^^Nothing to do," thought I; "must it not 
pall, — this sluggishness and indolence 
For I felt it an extreme that would not bear 
lasting. 

My question remained unanswered. Yea, 
after many days; for the same life was 
observed — an existence. 

Coming to a tree, the outspread boughs 
heavily laden with rich and vari-colored 
fruit, I looked admiringly upon it. 

" "Tis the finest in the garden," uttered 
some one standing by: "luscious, mellow, 
and delightful to the taste. Thou couldst 
not find finer fruit. Try it and see !" 

I demurred a while. I had done this 


56 Panorama of Sleep* 

before; for I had been several days in the 
garden, and felt loth to taste its products* 
Bat the woman near by again exhorted 
me: ""Why dost thoa not taste? I tell 
thee thoa wilt not regret it* Sach waiting 
is foolish, with all that within thy reach*^' 
By this time nambers had gathered 
roand* My initiation appeared a novelty 
and a desire to these garden-dwellers, and 
all exclaimed: ""Why art thoa foolish? 
No one hath thas acted here* Taste ! 
Enjoy 

Toward the boagh, all laden with grace- 
fal frait, I leaned, and placked two of the 
finest apples I saw* The interior was hol- 
low, the oatside beaaty bat an allarement; 
slowly, sarely, the beaatifal frait cram- 
bled in my hands* 

A cry escaped me; a cry came from the 
circles aboat me* 

""What is it?^^ they faltered, sarroanding 
me, and gazing in horror at the sight* 
""Ashes,^^ I replied, oatstretching my 
palms to them, wherein lay a small heap 
of dast-colored particles, sad to look apon. 


The Garden of Pleasure* 57 

Something like awe overspread their 
faces, and silence was supreme. 

Then one drew near, with the qnery: 
^^May I observe thy hands? Snrely some- 
thing is on them that hath power npon 
the frnit/^ 

I allowed him to hold them; even to dip 
them into the fountain near by, to assnre 
him of their natnral sttrface. 

I pincked another apple. It crumbled 
as before. 

^^Again V* exclaimed the circle. 

^^No, it will be but likewise. My place 
is not here,^^ I cried. ^The garden will 
yield me no food; for I have not the desire 
to eat it. My path lies outside, where fife 
looketh not so fair.^^ 

A band came toward me. **Let us go 
with thee,^^ asked they; ^^something tells 
us that the garden is not for us.^^ 

replied the others. **Let her 
depart. She is a stranger, and not wanted 
here. But do not follow her. Too long 
thou hast been with us. Stay and live.^^ 

But the little band waxed firmer. 


58 


Panorama of Sleep. 


have observed/^ cried they, ^^and know of 
the decay here. To tts the stranger is a 
magnet. We mnst follow, or be lost.^^ 

I opened the wicket-gate. 

Amid the jeers of the throng, we passed 
ottt, and the garden remained nattght hut a 
dream in the way soon taken. 


VI. 

WITH WARP AND WOOF 


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VL 

WITH WARP AND WOOF 

^^Bir-r-rr! Bir-r-rrr^ went the wheel* 
Faster and faster plied the shuttle* Ah, 
Hwas b«sy spinning! With fingers long 
and slim, whose deftness fascinated my 
eager eye, the foremost spinner held the 
threads* Click, click, sounded the shuttle, 
and the three women bent more eagerly 
to their tasks* 

In that chamber, long and narrow, I 
stood apart* Upon the walls, dark as with 
age, many tapestries hting: queer pic- 
tures, scenes of dramatic incident and 
action* ** Tis the work of the weavers,^^ 
thought I* 

Before one piece I paused* Rich with 
vari-colored threads, striking in figure- 
form and purport, it hting* 

"The story of some life,"^ a voice in- 
structed me; ""look and read*^^ 

I saw a cradle* Three shadowy forms 

61 


62 


Panorama of Sleep. 

in gray-woven garbs were at its head. A 
child, blnsh-pink with health, smiling and 
cooing, lay within it. 

A mother sat near, her lips slightly 
parted, her face beatific in the great love- 
light. She did not see the three figures 
at the cradle^s head. She knew not the 
dower they brought. 

A space upon the canvas. 

A girl stood near the brink of a stream. 
The figure was slim and youthful, the face 
rounded and pure, the eye clear, confiding. 
Upon the other bank a man stood and 
beckoned. And the girl stood on the fore- 
most stepping-stone, that rose, white and 
smooth, from the shallow brook-bed. 

The picture ran on. 

A woman sat alone. The face was a 
trifle older, but careworn and pleading in 
its pathos. Her hands were clenched as in 
pain, and the face that looked upward was 
tear-stained and beseeching. The parted 
lips voiced a prayer. 

Toward the next scene my eye rapidly 
ran. A man, careless and indifferent. 


63 


With Warp and Woof. 

talked to the woman. Upon his counte- 
nance flippant gayety rested. The eye 
was shifting and shallow, and the mouth 
thin and cruel. The wife — for so I sup- 
posed her to be — was beseeching. In her 
face a famished soul-love lay. Life had 
brought a bitter awakening, — the glamour 
of early union had faded. 

Upon that canvas years were chronicled; 
deeds lent a kaleidoscopic weaving. 

And, looking again, I beheld a brilliant 
scene. Fashion^s realm was depicted, 
where forms whirled in the dance, and 
lightness limned each face. And I saw the 
man. Over some beautiful butterfly of 
that world he hovered, but his face was 
radiant as with love, and his attitude 
imploring. 

And the fair one listened. 

The canvas now brought the first woman 
again. Upon her knees, alone, the fire- 
light falling upon her hair and pallid face, 
she prayed and watched. 

I started at the sight. Twas the old, 
old story of duplicity and neglect. 


64 Panorama of Sleep. 

^^What cometh next?^^ qnoth I. 

A narrow bed, aronnd which watchers 
waited; a scene woven-in with gray and 
black; sombre, silencing, and convincing. 
The woman^s sotil was fleeting. One cotild 
almost behold the tiny spark uprising from 
the bed. Stricken with remorse, the 
husband stood, a craven fear on his face. 
Too late was his arriving; unavailing his 
protestations. 

A space upon the canvas — marking 
some interval, I reckoned. 

An altar; a bridal array. And I looked 
and saw the man*s face. Near him, the 
girl over whom he had hovered in the 
realm of fashion. And over them, high in 
the vaulted space of the edifice, a shadowy 
angelic form. Why had she returned to 
earth? 

^'L'lkest thou the canvas asked a voice; 
and the foremost spinner stood beside me. 

**lt readeth sadly I answered. **Are 
there no joyous scenes upon which one 
may dwell? Weavest thou only the dark 
threads ?^^ 


65 


With Warp and WooL 

weave the tr«e, the inevitable* 
Upon every canvas some checkering comes* 
For we see with the inner sight, and out 
fingers are thus aided and impelled*^^ 

Then the old crone drew aside some 
heavy tapestries* Light and warmth were 
on them, joyonsness was depicted* Bnt 
on some the closing scene was dark and 
tragic* Others began with gloom, and 
ended in light* The room was subterran- 
ean; the spinners were old and shriveled* 
By whose command dwelt they there? 
How much longer was to be their abiding? 

*^What do these testify ?^^ I asked, point- 
ing to the picture-hung walls* 

^^Destinies,^^ curtly replied the crone, and 
she pointed her shriveled finger on high, 
while a mocking laugh rang out upon the 
silence* 

^Ts mine known to thee ?^^ 

^^Ha, ha V* she shrieked, **and why not ? 
They are now at work upon it,^' and she 
looked toward her sisters* Busily went 
the wheel, noisily traveled the shuttle* I 
. turned and looked at the threads* 


66 Panorama of Sleep. 

"'Dark and fair/^ prophesied the crone. 
"Thou art not exempt. From the human 
race thou comest.^^ 

A bar of sunlight fell across my life- 
piece. Whence did it come? 

"An omen, perchance/' thought I. For 
it lighted all the dulness, and lifted my 
heart. 

Then I looked and saw a tiny window 
at the side, near the entrance of the cave, 
or room. Through the narrow aperture 
the sunlight had forced its way. It seemed 
a harbinger of promise, something I must 
accept, and to which pay gratitude. 

And with it streaming down, with hope 
arisen, I thanked the spinners, and, picking 
up my mantle, I stepped out into the day. 


VII. 

OVERTHROW OF THE TEMPLE 


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OVERTHROW OF THE TEMPLE 

The worshipers were many* Even now 
they thronged the gates, and came in as 
rapidly as the space permitted* Before 
the temple — a marble pile of purest white 
— a stranger stood* He was tall and 
slender, and clad in the garb and flowing 
draperies of his countrymen* Some author- 
ity seemed given him; for he exhorted all 
to enter* 

Hesitating, bewildered, I waited* I had 
pressed in with the harrying throng* From 
a distance I had come, and the temple walls 
had been the perspective that my weary 
eyes had strainingly seen; some shrine was 
sarely there, some invocation on my lips* 

Aboat me, I observed all nationalities* 
The Caacasian jostled elbows with the crael 
Tark, the war-like Han flashed fiery glances 
on a neighboring Roman; the Arab chief 
frowned apon the mCek-eyed Chinaman, 
69 


70 Panorama of Sleep* 

and the bustling American was in close 
proximity to the Indian warrior* Some 
quest inspired all; some duty not to be 
ignored* A babel, worse than that of Pen- 
tecost, made hideous the air; and high 
above all came the shrill scream of the Son 
of the Orient* 

I placed my hands to my throbbing ears* 
The murmur became sufficiently toned to 
rest me, and, stepping aside, near a jutting 
corner of the temple, I sought to solve the 
coming of that throng, the mission with 
which each was directed* Eagerness was 
in every eye, excitement in each move- 
ment* And the stranger still stood, tall 
and stately, and beckoned them toward 
the entrance* 

As in such throngs, the hurrying became 
more exciting* Small men fell backward, 
and their brawny brothers pressed, tri- 
umphant and eager, to the fore* Danger 
looked from that sea of heads and that 
squirming, serpentining pressing* Such 
motions appeared sadly out of place before 
those white and holy walls; for I had been 


Overthrow of the Temple, 1 \ 

told that the temple was there, and had 
snrmised that a great enlightenment 
awaited each seeker* 

The entrance was effected. Even now 
I saw them ascending the broad steps, the 
richness and variety of costtime presenting 
a glittering effect in the early morning light* 
Across the tessellated portico they passed, 
and were soon lost to view within that 
mighty enclostire* Btit from time to time 
voices rose above those of the throng with- 
out, some exhortation, pleading, and 
prayerftilness clothing each accent ! Some- 
times the wail of a weeping devotee, or the 
ecstasy of a whirling dervish, would come 
to me, impressing a great curiosity to go 
within* 

A Mussulman stood near, and brushed 
my elbow* His lips were moving as if in 
prayer, and he turned his face toward the 
East, and bowed three times* 

I watched him steadily* In fancy he 
heard the muezzin calling — the sacred 
spires of the mosque were before him* 

Side by side, a swarthy Egyptian awaited. 


72 Panorama of Sleep. 

In his hand he held a roll of parchment, 
that he examined from time to time, and at 
a certain line he placed his finger, as if de- 
sirous of knowing its answer. About his 
neck queer talismans hung, and the yellow 
and black folds of his garments were 
curiously lettered in golden threads. 
One would have thought him a master 
of the Black Art upon looking at 
the deep-set, mystic eye, the wrinkled 
swarthiness of countenance, and nervous 
individuality possessing him. Turning 
his eye full upon me, he made some 
remark. 

I shrugged my shoulders, and murmured 
unintelligibly in my native tongue. 

Seizing my hand, he looked eagerly into 
my face, and tried to hurry me onward to 
the base of the steps. A fear came sud- 
denly unto me, yet something assured me 
I would gain by his company. 

We left the Mussulman rapt in devotion. 
He still turned his face toward the East, 
and the white turban stood prominently 
out beside the long black locks of the 


Overthrow of the Temple* 73 

Indian warrior and the yellow feathers in 
his head-dress. 

With some difficulty we ascended the 
steps and gained the entrance. 

A vast hall met my eyes, its floor tessel- 
lated in curious squares, its dome holding a 
brilliant globe, that pended from the ceiling 
and shed a golden light throughout the 
temple. The entire space below was par- 
titioned off, and between each space, and 
within, queer figures in marble, bronze, 
clay, and ebony stood. Before them the 
people prostrated themselves, some hold- 
ing their hands high in invocation, others 
weeping, wailing, or shouting in ecstasy 
and desire. 

The Chinaman screeched and prostrated 
himself before a hideous clay figure, whose 
flat face, contorted features, and squatty 
form were anything but attractive. I 
listened and heard a long string of sentences 
whirled to the deity. Nothing more ludi- 
crous was near, I assured myself. 

The Peruvian stood before an altar on 
which fire was burning, and the red tongues 


74 


Panorama of Sleep* 


lighted up his devotional eyes, the moving 
lips, and the bowing head* 

In the space beside him a Hindoo priest 
sat, his eyes closed, a mumble more like a 
buzzing than a prayer proceeding from his 
thick lips. His hair was white and in 
peculiar contrast to his brown and rugged 
face. About him a hideous array of figures 
stood, and the name of Vishnu came from 
time to time as he looked upward. That 
I judged to be the central figure. 

Passing on, I stood before the Grecian 
gods. A vast company was there, pros- 
trate, and invoking, by turns, the many 
deities circling the space. From a curtain 
a voice replied to questions given. And 
I saw that each one rose ecstatically or 
grief-stricken as the Oracle replied. A 
fair maiden knelt before Venus, and 
prayed for her absent lover. A clean- 
limbed athlete besought Minerva for intel- 
lect and strength; a sorrow-bowed Athen- 
ian implored Jupiter for power and venge- 
ance upon enemies. Apollo turned smil- 
ingly with his lyre to a woman that craved 


Overthrow of the Temple* 75 

the speech of song^ and Neptnne was 
invoked by a pirate of Corsica* Suddenly 
a hymn btirst npon the air* I turned and 
looked* Some priests of • Apollo were 
chanting, and the Romans and Grecians 
knelt before their gods* 

I now neared the space where the 
Egyptian waited* A huge cat, a Sphinx- 
head, and some figures of Osiris were 
there* He inclined his head, but with less 
reverence than I expected* Bowing to the 
Sphinx, he laid the parchment upon its base^ 
and calmly waited for inspiration* 

Would the figure speak? Were those 
grim lips and that inscrutable countenance 
kind to the children of men? I recalled 
the times when natives were wont to put 
questions to the figure, and when each rid- 
dle was solved* 

In silence we waited* Patience fell upon 
the Egyptian — not the flicker of an eye- 
lash betrayed the slightest nervousness* 
A great faith was with him* 

The parchment rustled* Surely some- 
thing had touched it! Quick as a flash. 


76 Panorama of Sleep* 

the Egyptian grasped it, and ran his eye 
eagerly over the line his fingers had 
marked* Some hieroglyphics were visible, 
coming ont faintly below the original man- 
uscript. 

^*Aha!^^ he exclaimed* ***Tis even as I 
dreamed. The Sphinx is kind — more than 
kind;^^ and he prostrated himself* 

^^Shall I teach thee the meaning asked 
he eagerly, looking down into my eyes* 
^Tor what purpose quoth I. 

^^An art once lost,^^ he replied. ^Thou 
canst aid me, if thou wilt. Speak 
But his vehemence alarmed me. My 
curiosity was dead. My idea of the com- 
pany was now plain, and before me rose 
the figure of a Man — sweet and saintly, a 
crown of thorns upon His brow, hands 
rent and bleeding. *^Keep thy art!*^ I 
cried, **1 wish none other than mine own.^^ 
Without waiting for his reply, I left him, 
and walked about the building. 

And now curious glances were bestowed 
upon me, as if I were reckoned an interloper 
and some stepped forward as if to eject me; 


Overthrow of the Temple* 77 

from the edifice* One familiar face ap- 
peared afar — one of my own country, and 
I walked toward him, and addressed 
him, 

^^What doest thon here?^^ I asked tran- 
quilly* 

^^The throng attracted me* How vast 
all this appears, and we — we are outside 
their pale, are we not 
^^Ol a truth,^' I replied* And a priest 
passing near tried to induce me to bow to 
an idol beside me* 

^^Never!^^ I cried* 

^^And why?^^ he asked, using my native 
tongue* 

**1 acknowledge none of these, and look 
upon them as mere nothings, that — ** 
With an iron clutch, he interrupted me: 

Wretch, thou art lostT^ 

And now the crowd hemmed in about 
us, and some sought to strike me, but 
something withheld their hands* 

^^Whom dost thou worship cried the 
cruel tones of the priest* 


78 Panorama of Sleep » 

**GodV* I shotted* And the ring as- 
cended to the dome above, and the golden 
globe rocked to and fro, as if in assent. 

With a shriek, the crowd parted, rtm- 
ning hither and thither, the idols fell from 
their high pedestals, and crashing noises 
resounded throughout the building; the 
walls were shaking, and the frightened 
throng pressed forward toward the en- 
trance. 

*^She hath called down wrath upon us. 
Accursed is she — that slim white maiden 
of a heathen clime. The gods are angry, 
behold them!^^ 

Fleeing as for their lives, they left me. 

I saw the mighty walls tremble, and, 
looking about, observed my fellow-coun- 
tryman by my side. The Egyptian had 
fled, his parchment in his hands. 

^^Come called my companion, **we must 
not tarry here. It is well that the place 
of idols has been overthrown. Would to 
One above it could ever be so!^^ And 
leading me safely to a grove a short dis- 
tance away, we stood without a word, and 


Overthrow of the Temple* 79 

watched the mighty overthrow* and heard 
the crashing* 

Afar came the shrieks of the people: 
^*Woe* woe V* and an anguish came with 
the accents* 

Invincible and full of faith I stood* 



I 


VIII. 

A TARDY OVATION 


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VIII. 

A TARDY OVATION 

Where am I?*^ asked I alotid, waking 
from what I believed a dream, so strangely 
did my surroundings affect me. 

The muffled murmur of my own voice 
reached mine ear alone. 

I was on the outskirts of a city, standing 
loth and hesitant. For I knew not by 
which way I must travel — to the onward 
or the inward. I saw the smoke from pipe 
and chimney-top, curling spirally against 
the blueness of the sky. I saw ancient 
streets, narrow and sloping roadways, some 
irregularly-constructed dwellings, and signs 
of traffic and labor. Beyond the city 
stretched the fields, green with Spring fresh- 
ness, unlimited to the eye, and alluring. 

""Out there Nature awaits me,'' thought 
I. ""Here, development and • enlighten- 
ment." For in this rock-bound city, with 
its antique land-marks, my intelligence; 
seemed thirsting for information. 

83 


84 


Panorama of Sleep* 


Many passed me by, offering a salutation, 
a nod, and a curious side-glance; none, 
however, intruding upon my quietude, or 
offering invitation or suggestion. 

For I felt I needed none. In past times 
my direction had been tendered from 
another Source. I was confident that the 
present course would know the same. 
Placing myself thus, trustful and unafraid, 
I awaited the voice that had always as- 
sured me; that had never instructed but 
for my peace; had never guided my feet 
save for safety and refuge. 

Pedestrians passed and repassed. The 
morning was clear and golden, and my 
white robe looked fresh, as if newly donned. 

Yet I traveled far. Memory reverted to 
a home miles away, to associations that 
clustered about every inch of its surface. 
My path led away from its seclusion; my 
outlook was longer, of wider vision. Some- 
thing was here, in this ancient city. I 
must wait. 

I looked about me, with a gaze expectant 
and alert. The streets were becoming 


85 


A Tardy Ovation* 

closer with moving forms, and abont their 
faces and selves something tmtisnal was 
evident* 

^"Perhaps it is a gala-day, thought I. 
^*One of those feasting-times, so frequent 
in cities of this kind* I shall wait and see*^^ 
But I made no inquiries — preferring to 
use my eyes and ears as I best pleased, and 
feeling that the friendly Presence that was 
wont to travel beside me, would surely 
permit all knowledge to be mine* 

Groups of two or three stood under the 
jutting doorway of a dwelling* Their con- 
verse was excited and rapid; from time to 
time I caught words that arrested my hear- 
ing, in spite of my desire not to be curious. 
To the right and the left they looked — 
forward and backward; and I caught pecu- 
liar expressions on their faces — partly cyni- 
cal, partly doubting* 

And now the roadway became cleared 
as for a coming company. A crier walked 
from left to right, and with authority de- 
manded that no obstruction be there. 

Far out in the distance I beheld a cloud 


86 Panorama of Sleep* 

of dnst* As it parted, I looked, and saw- 
many forms approaching, garbed in sombre 
habiliments, walking with downcast faces 
and qwiet mien* 

As they advanced, I marked one at the 
head* He carried a long, slender trumpet 
in his hand* From time to time its silver 
note rang ont to the silence about* At the 
sound, a murmur sped among those near 
me, and I caught the same from afar; like 
a brook in motion the babble spread* 

And now came they near — so near that 
I discerned what they were following* 
funeral pageant I exclaimed, behold- 
ing a bier* 

What life lay extinguished under that 
sable pall ? Was he of rank, of note, or had 
he left a mighty sum for obsequies and for a 
host of mourners? 

I heard no word* The spectators were 
as ignorant as I; they kept their eyes and 
ears well-open to the novel procession* 

And now walked one with many pam- 
phlets in his hands* To either side he scat- 
tered them, with an air important and 


87 


A Tardy Ovation* 

knowing* And the crowd jostled one 
another and clamored and fought for pos- 
session. ' 

^*What IS it?^^ asked I, of one that, like 
myself, stood apart. For I could not re- 
strain my wish to know. 

*The words of him that lieth there,^^ 
he replied, a cynical smile curling his lip. 
*They do not dream how deaf the ear, 
ftill-sealed the month, and the son! escaped 
like a bird from a net. Fools! They 
make no distinction.^' 

At his words, a lotid trnmpet-note again 
assailed mine ear. The company were 
bowing the knee, as if to the presence of 
royalty? and I heard laudatory phrases, 
snccnlent speech, and marked a cring- 
ing, that caused me to turn mine eyes 
aside. 

^^How long lasteth this?" I inquired. 
For I saw no sincerity in that bowing 
assembly, neither grief, nor other than a 
desire to be observed, heard, and counted 
important. 

^^Until another bier cometh on," an- 


88 Panorama of Sleep, 

swered the sage, and he tnrned on his heel 
with an air of disgust* 

The procession moved on, followed by 
the citizens of that quaint old town, who, 
at intervals, and in numbers, read alotid 
from the pamphlets in their hands* Upon 
some faces lay a blankness, yet they bent 
the knee whenever the mourners did, and 
landed the name of him upon the bier, as if 
duty pressed them so to do, and circum- 
stance was naught* 

I stood apart: for the sage had disap- 
peared* His path, no doubt, lay far 
hence, but the words he had let fall, 
counted much with me* A sample of 
humanity had paraded before me; a tithe 
of that world of whom men are never con- 
fident, that condemns or encourages as the 
mood pleases* 

^^And this fickleness is known to all,^^ I 
exclaimed, as I walked from the city* 


IX. 

A MIGRATION 









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IX, 

A MIGRATION 


A haIf-conscio«sness — reckoned as 
neither waking nor sleeping — came in the 
far advance of night-time. Some invisible 
power seemed rocking the conch on which 
I lay — rocking slowly, yet nniformly, nntil 
a bnoying, as from a sense of flight, became 
known all at once to me, I felt encour- 
aged to rise, to float to a clime beyond 
mortal ken or perception. 

In the dim-lighted room I saw a spark — 
small, glowing, and rising from my body^s 
place, ** ^Tis part of me,^^ thonght I, as it 
still hovered, 

A nnmbness took possession of my body 
— that which I reckoned as *^me^^ And I 
knew no more till the free breath of 
the spring evening blew npon me, and the 
glittering spark had elongated and ronnded 
into a form that held my consciousness, my 
reason, 

I looked about. High in heaven the 

91 


92 


Panorama of Sleep* 

moon traversed her pathway* Some 
fleecy clouds were in her wake^ and one 
small star that seemed pining for com- 
panionship* The air was mellow^ life- 
giving* The breezes came through sur- 
rounding tree-tops, like faint fetchings of 
dryads^ songs* Even the leaves, bursting 
from the dark tree-branches, murmured 
a tremulous note of gratefulness for new 
birth* 

Soaring, conscious of elation and election, 
I flew toward the zone of heaven* Then 
all at once a brightness bespread that part 
of the sky to which mine eye was attracted* 
The glory grew and grew, till I almost with- 
drew my gaze* But the fascination of 
first sight was too powerful — and I looked 
again* 

A hand, thrusting itself from behind 
some billowy cloud-caps, was seen* Be- 
tween the long supple fingers a pencil of 
flame was balanced* Slowly, legibly, it 
began its mysterious tracing* Each letter 
was tipped as with flame, each word scin- 
tillated and burned into my spirit-sense* 


93 


A Migration, 

**F1y higher/^ urged a voice. 

Then I saw the letters were becoming 
smaller, and nearness was compellant. 
Toward the mystic message I flew. It was 
for me, I was convinced; for no other beings 
were visible. And now I seemed poised 
upon the clotid-caps, that stirrotmded me 
like a succession of fleece-steps. And the 
hand was near, quite near, and potent with 
personality, 

A line was traced upon the blue sky- 
surface, Another, and yet another, until 
the message, written in a language I under- 
stood, filled me with awe. Why was it 
given me to stand there? Why was I, 
the feast of creatures, face to face with the 
Power ? 

Out upon the stiffness, high where no 
human ear coufd hear, I voiced a sentiment. 
Then the hand withdrew. 

But the message of ffame? Deepfy it 
rested in my spirit-seff; I had understood; 
I had accepted, Wheefing downward — in 
circfes made swifter by thankfufness — I 
saw the city. 


94 Panorama of Sleep, 

The tree-tops still waved to the dryads^ 
song. The silvered leaves yet crooned a 
midnight murmuring^ and something in a 
room beyond, through an open window, in 
a familiar dwelling, called to me. Had 
the severance been too long, or was I in an 
earth-abode where the something craved 
its counterpart ? 

I heard more keenly the call. Faster I 
flew toward the gabled honse-top, to the 
window, open and inviting. 

Something still lay on the bed, quiet, 
voiceless, and alone. It opened its eyes. 
It spoke: ^"What a beautiful flight V* 

And I heard myself. I was cognizant of 
having been transported somewhere, some 
time, during the last hour-lapse. 

That was all. 


X. 

THE ONE AT THE HELM 







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X,. 


THE ONE AT THE HELM. 

The boat was waiting, and I stepped in. 
Whither it was to carry me, I knew not, nor 
had any sign been given me. As when 
in life, amid a dense throng, one sees a face 
toward which the spirit trends, so looked I 
on the countenance of one that stood at the 
helm. 

Never before had such intelligence, reso- 
luteness, and sympathy been embodied in 
a face. It was rugged and lacking in 
yonth-fire; but the light of a master-mind 
gleamed from the eye, and the tenderest 
lines harbored about the month. 

No word was essayed me as the vessel 
left the shore; and for that I mnrmnred 
not. Oat on a stream, placid, mirror-like, 
we floated. Fresh with the harmony of 
my environments, I looked aboat. Some 
moantains — tall, bat deviating in height — 
encircled the oatlook. By that night-time 
97 


98 Panorama of Sleep* 

mfinence, they were softened and strong* 
Toward their peaks the stars leaned, as if 
holding converse with those high altitudes, 
while groups of fleecy clouds scurried away 
from one another, as if in glee* 

The spell of the hour was upon me — 
something witching, yet wonderful* I saw 
the shore recede, like the delicate limning of 
a dream* I saw bush and low-lying verdure, 
tossing tree, and giant branches lose their 
proportion by distance and the lessing 
light, but I knew no repining at the separa- 
tion* For I was going somewhere* My 
course must have been mapped out long 
before, else my feet would not have so 
surely trod to the water^s edge* 

Did the Pilot know? or either of those 
two figures I suddenly viewed, that stood 
to right and left of him? 

The three, clad in dark and flowing garb, 
made not sign nor answer, but, ever as the 
vessel pursued her way, looked straight 
ahead, as if some beacon-light attracted 
them* The vessel was quaint and ap- 
parently olden, carefully manned, and, in 


The One at the Helm. 99 

spite of the creaking now and then of her 
timbers, was safe and weather-proof. 

Evenly she pursued her course. Straight 
as a die her figure-head led, and a curious 
figure-head, by-the-bye. From my place 
in the aft, I could catch only a faint out- 
line, but I could see that the figure was 
white, of graceful proportions, and like 
unto a woman. The carved drapery 
seemed floating in the gentle stirring of the 
breeze; the huge anchor, against which she 
leaned, was ruddy- colored, like a nugget of 
gold, and high in the right hand a golden 
key was held. All this I saw in the moon- 
light. 

strange barque, and freighted with 
peculiar people V* and I gazed more intent- 
ly at the figure. 

At my exclamation, — more audible than 
I knew, — one drew near unto me. *^Hast 
thou no fear?^^ 

^^None.^^ 

^^Nor wishr^ 

^^Nor wish,'* I humbly answered. 

**lt is well ! If thou hadst beset us with 


LOfC. 


100 


Panorama of Sleep* 

qneriest we shonid have deemed thee 
doubting* Thy trust is an aid to us, thy 
presence a pleasure* Much lieth beyond, 
to which thou must carry a stout heart* 
Art thou able?^^ 

**1 am in thy hands,^' I replied, over- 
come by surety and delight* 

For answer, he gazed intently, as if 
reading my utmost spirit; then, calmly 
moving on, he continued: ^Xook thou well 
to thy beliefs; they will serve thee here- 
after*^^ 

Once more I was alone, gazing at the 
stars, which leaned toward the mountains; 
hearing the lulling sound of the vessel^s 
course, and drowsy with peacefulness* 

How long I slept I could not determine; 
but, aroused by a sudden plunging of the 
vessel, I sprang to ray feet* Everything 
was dark* The stars leaned no more 
against the mountain-heights; the calm 
blue of the summer sky had gone, and 
clouds, portentous, grim, and heavy hung 
over Qur heads* 

Voices floated across the water; some 


The One at the Helm. \0l 

high-tuned in despair; others, fretful and 
impatient. The whole surface of the lake 
was agitated; from time to time a lightning- 
flash would reveal a choppy heaving, while 
the waves ran high against the figure-head. 

*^The Pilot knows I murmured, hold- 
ing my hands in quietness. 

And, with the belief, on sped our vessel, 
cleaving her way as straight as an arrow, 
while the voices still traveled toward us. 
And I could see by the lightning^s glare, 
that many were struggling in the frothing 
waters. How frenzied appeared the faces ! 
How vindictive the glances of others ! 

So absorbed had I become, I had not 
noticed the falling of heavy drops until the 
tall stranger — one that had heretofore 
addressed me — led me to a shelter, where I 
was screened from the rainfall. Immedi- 
ately he resumed his post, after first scan- 
ning with greater curiosity my face, to 
behold if therein any fear found lodgment. 

I judged not, so soon did he leave me. 

A light began to break — a soft, mellow 
light, that made my surroundings clear 


\02 


Panorama of Sleep. 

again. Inowconldseethemowntams; the 
stars leaned lovingly against them. More 
white donds scurried than before, and 
between the parted cloud-curtain the 
moon looked out timidly, yet as of one 
loth to hide herself. 

And I knew that the tempest was over; 
that the white figure-head, leaning on the 
anchor, meant something to me; that the 
rugged Pilot and the ones on either side 
were necessary to my voyage; that I 
would soon reach port. 


XI. 

THE MYSTIC CHART 







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THE MYSTIC CHART 








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XL 

THE MYSTIC CHART 

Thfotigh a corridor, long and narrow, I 
took my way. The ceiling was high and of 
peculiar coloring, while the walls on either 
side were ivory-tinted and flecked with 
gold. So deep was the pile of the soft, rich 
carpet upon which I walked, my footsteps 
were scarcely known. I looked about me 
fearfully. 

No one was nigh. To the far end of the 
corridor I traveled, when, lo, I found my- 
self in a circular hall, from which three 
other corridors, similar in width and length, 
led. Looking up, I beheld a vast and 
convex dome, azure-tinted, and akin in 
appearance to God*s heavens when the 
night-time coloreth them. A light, mellow 
and far-reaching, was there, and the vast 
dome seemed a map over which the finger of 
God had traced his signs. 

105 


106 


Panorama of Sleep* 


And now men walked abont the drcnlar 
way — majestic-looking Masters, clothed 
in white samite, and wearing long beards, 
pristine as their robes* They stood afar, 
near the eastern corridor, and were looking 
upward, where the bine color was, where 
myriads of stars twinkled, and where the 
mellow light fell upon their faces* 

Then I listened* 

Voices, thrilling with purport, came to 
mine ear* A chant, as mystical as the rimes 
of long-extinct bards, became the burden 
of their lay* 

And I heard a voice as if in answer* 
Clear, resonant, and ringing throughout 
that vast hall came the tones* But I 
learned nothing from its message* The 
language was not known to me, but to 
those Masters alone: for they bowed sub- 
missively as they chorused a reply* 

Wrapt in wonderment I waited* 

Then the voice became silent* But not 
I* Something had stirred every pulse of 
feeling within me, and a whisper like a 
prophecy came unto my sense: "'Why 


The Mystic Chart, J07 

standest thoa there ? A privilege is 
granted thee. Look and explore.^^ 

Turning to the East, I bethought me of 
the Masters. Not one was visible. Into 
some sanctum they had vanished. A 
chime, like silver bells, sounded afar. The 
tintillations roused me to advance. 

^Tt may be a call/* thought I, ^^or a 
shrine at which I should prostrate myself.^' 
Looking about me, I perceived none to 
whom I could speak. Silence — mystical, 
potent, eloquent — enveloped me like an ele- 
ment. Still the silver bells sounded, break- 
ing, as if at stated intervals, upon mine ear. 

**lt may be some service takes place,^' 
I meditated — ^^something free to all,^^ and 
I longed — oh, so earnestly ! — for one to walk 
with me; the solemnity of the place was 
weighing mightily upon my spirit. 

Then behind me I felt a force like a rush- 
ing wind. With a wave of wind-power, it 
impelled me. To neither right nor left I 
looked; on, on, till I had made the circuit 
of the hall, when I veered suddenly to the 
East, and followed down its corridor. 


J08 Panorama of Sleep. 

Then afar I saw one walking, as if in 
earnest thought. Upon the floor his eyes 
were bent, and his hands were crossed upon 
his breast. And the silver bell still 
sounded. 

Before the Master was aware, I stood 
before him. 

Why looked he up so suddenly, I could 
not surmise. I only knew the strange and 
subtle power that pervaded the circle about 
me, and a great nearness that came from 
him. Pu sing with thought . and eager 
intent I yet remained qu escent. 

^^Come, I have awaited thee. Heardest 
thou not the bell? To every one sum- 
moned within, it hath a meaning.^^ 

I bowed meekly. 

^^Do not fear,^^ quoth he, observing my 
hesitating step. **¥eel that thou art 
chosen, and advance.^^ 

I followed at once. Then I beheld a 
door. At the entrance-end of the corridor 
it stood, and on its face queer symbols ran. 
A pass-word of ancient origin came from 
the Master^s lips. 


The Mystic Chart* 109 

Slowly and noiselessly swnng the door 
npon its hinges* 

^"Come/^ invited the Master* ^Tarry 
not long*'^ 

Into the strange and narrow apartment 
I walked. On the walls^ maps of all kinds 
were hanging* I looked npon them; bnt 
the names were new to me* On the ceil- 
ing zodiacal signs were placed* Under the 
one where I stood^ a chart rested* 

**lt is thine/^ said the Master, looking 
up at the ceiling to see my precise location* 
**Take the chart into thy hands, and dis- 
cover its meaning*^' 

Then I bent me forward and raised it 
from the floor* Strange to relate, it was 
light as air* Cnbe-Iike in shape, its surface 
appeared porous, while each side was 
black as ink* 

**1 see nothing,^' cried I, in wonder* 

^Tlace thy hand upon it — so*^' 

I obeyed* 

^^Now pass in circles until I bid thee 
cease*^' 

His word was law* 


no Panorama of Sleep. 

Then all at once a flashing became ap- 
parent. The Master ceased. Qnickly I 
withdrew my hand. On every side of the 
cube electric sparks shone out, enabling 
me to perceive hieroglyphics that stood 
out on the surfaces like letters of flame. 

With eager eye the Master read, and as 
quickly transferred to a tablet in his hand. 

The chart became black again. 

^^Cotildst thoti hut know at once V* 
cried the Master; ^^bnttonone is such for- 
tune given. Take hold within thy handt 
for in this lifers secret lies. All in time 
shall its meaning come. Neglect not one 
of its laws V* 

To the door I followed him, mtirmtiring 
my thanks; for a peace as tranquil as an 
evening hour was upon me. 

I left the corridor alone. At its farther 
end I saw the sunshine. An open road of 
shrtib-lined verdure beckoned me. 

Far behind me came the tinkle of the 
silver bell. 


XII. 

THE MOUNT OF PURPOSE 





XIL 

THE MOUNT OF PURPOSE 

The top of the mount am was lost m the 
clouds. 

I stood at the base and looked up — up to 
the zenith in my clear vision, up where a 
light shone that almost blinded mine 
eyes. The sun seemed centred there. 

In the valley about me — cool and de- 
lightful, and winding here and there with 
silver rivulets — a number of people were 
gathered. Happy and merry was their 
discourse. Care seemed as far removed 
as the skies that smiled above them; and 
in groups of two, three, and more they 
stood and cast their eyes to where I stood, 
lone, hesitant, and silent. 

The scene was one not to be forgotten. 
To the westward lay the homes of the valley- 
seekers. The sun touched the vines, that 
clambered to the cottage-roofs. Like a 

ns 


U4 


Panorama of Sleep. 


tissne of gold it lay on the smooth, green 
sward. My eyes lingered tipon the sylvan 
seen 5 before me. 

*^Art thon alone in this land?*^ asked 
one, advancing toward me, and looking 
npon me with friendliness and interest. 

^^It seemeth so,'' was my reply, looking 
abont, and beholding no familiar face. 

^^Then stay and rest. It is pleasant 
here. One needeth not to struggle nor to 
strive, but take the hours as they come. 
We eat and drink and are merry. Nothing 
disturbs, and we count light-hearted ones 
here." 

"But I am sent for a season only," I 
replied, promptly and decisively. 

"By whom?" sneered my listener. "Pay- 
est thou tribute to any man? Not I!" 
and he snapped his fingers. 

"Only to the Director of my being," I 
answered, stung by his sneers and doubting 
looks. 

"And where proposest thou to wander?" 
he asked mockingly. 

"Up there," I answered, looking far up 


The Mount of Purpose* US 

the height, where one or two toilers were 
scantily visible* 

foofs errand/* quoth he* have 

marked some ascending, but they always 
come back again; and so wilt thou* One 
or two, however, have perished there* 
The returning ones have told us queer tales 
of whitening bones, or broken staff, and 
shreds of cloth*** 

**lt daunteth me not,** I boldly rejoined* 
**Were it given me to choose between 
that and thine, my course would be there,** 
and I stepped forward* 

^Thou wilt return,** cried the speaker; 
**thou wilt be like the rest,** and he looked 
pityingly at my slender stature* 

think not* A voice surer than thine 
assures of safety* Wait and know!** To 
the path I stepped* It was narrow and 
shelly, and my feet felt little surety at the 
first pacing* 

^^Foolish one !** shrieked the valley- 
dwellers* ^^Come back to us! Come and 
abide in pleasantness and comfort!** 

But I only nodded in negatives, and 


tt6 Panorama of Sleep. 

stepped higher. Steep and frowning 
loomed the monnt. No bnsh grew near for 
hand-holdingt no sapling by which to 
forward my body^s length. 

Then I thrnst my nails into the earth- 
mold; I loosened the soil and climbed 
sorely upward. Into the tendons of my 
slim white members new strength was 
infused,and I gripped the earth with an iron 
clutch. The air became rarer, but I did 
not care. A light streamed down upon 
me, and its tiny radii seemed arms out- 
stretched and electric-lifting. I became 
hopeful and exultant. I traveled faster. 
No human being was near. I was soli- 
tary and silent in my journeying. But 
the light was always there, and it helped 
me. I dared not look back. 

Once I paused to rest, but a forward 
gaze was continually with me. Deadly 
would a backward glance be, I felt and 
reasoned. 

And now, as if to reward me, I discov- 
ered a path that wound about near the 
peak of the mount. Unhesitatingly I 


The Mount of Purpose. 117 

stepped into iU my hands were bleeding 
and fatigued. It became wider, more 
accessible, and the air seemed softer; its 
former rarity did not pain or affect me 
now. Small green herbs appeared, and 
little clumps of verdure. Each foot of 
soil looked life-giving, rich, and propagat- 
ing. Tiny mountain-blossoms, from time 
to time, attracted my eye; some star-like 
in appearance, and coming into my 
thought like the children of hope. Others, 
faint in tint as the early dawn-streaks, sent 
color and cheer into that lonely path. 

Looking up once more, I caught the 
outline of a form that stood high up on the 
mountain's peak, and was lined on the blue 
sky-surface like a delicate tracery. 

""A human one, and hereT^ I ecstatic- 
ally breathed. 

Twas an incentive too great to be un- 
heeded. To think that I, formerly soli- 
tary, silent, should soon be there, and 
hold converse with one of my kind I 
Carefully stepping, joyously singing, I 
proceeded. 


Its Panorama of Sleep. 

Other forms now arrested my vision. 
Perhaps they had j«st arrived, perhaps 
they were awaiting me. Both queries 
were thought-holding. Ere I was aware, 
I had scaled the mountain-side. Feeling 
as if the universe were mine, stretching 
out my arms to the grandness of space, 
with longing, like a wild bird for flight, I 
stood. 

Then I marked a small company, that 
appeared waiting, expectant, and smiling. 

^^Come,^^ called one, advancing toward 
me. travel beyond, and have 

awaited thee,^' and he pointed to a plateau 
of land proceeding near the mountain-top 
and jutting out at one side. 

And I, sure, elate, and intensified with 
success, followed fleetly, no query on my 
lips, no fear within my heart. 


XIII. 

IN THE MOON'S CIRCLET 


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XIII. 

IN THE MOONS CIRCLET 

Twelve women sat in a row, on a r«de 
wooden bench. The twilight shadowed 
the earth, and the finger of repose had 
touched each plant and shrub, each 
flower of the field and wayside. 

I sat with the twelve at the far end of the 
row, waiting, watching, with that sense 
which foretells the prescience of some event. 
Nothing had been prophesied, nothing 
made known, but the waiting moments 
were full of expectations, suspense, and 
impression. Words were not given us in 
that night-time sitting: one accent would 
have jarred the soul-current. Therefore 
vision, keen, intense, and yearning became 
the sense most alert; and with quiet 
hands, but throbbing pulses, we remained. 

The sky was blue as the heart of a 
violet-bud, and the clouds sifted over its 

m 


\22 Panorama of Sleep* 

surface like snow fallen free from the 
Frost-King's hand* The moon uprose 
from the mountain's peak, and, with its 
sober face, looked like the genii of the 
mountain* But the dark mass remained 
immovable, and the face rose higher in its 
course* Toward that lunar body the eyes 
of the twelve traveled intently* 

It appeared the same light that had 
radiated the heavenly region as the nights 
rolled round, yet a tiny silvery spot, scarce 
larger than a dewdrop's shining, became 
visible in the dark space turned toward the 
earth* Growing, brightening, it held our 
vision, until stamped upon the shadowed 
surface, and encircled by the moon's thin 
ring-tracery, a cross of gold appeared* 

I, like the rest, became awe-struck and 
silent* What phenomenon was to occur 
in that far-off element? what vision 
granted our expectant eyes? 

The mystery held us* A fascination, 
proceeding from the contact of the eye with 
a bright object, was all we knew, yet 
urther developments would assuredly be 


In the Moon^s Circlet* 123 

known. For what other purpose were we 
there? 

Some feathery clouds dispersed with the 
force of an unseen breath, and slowly up- 
rising from the space behind the moon 
came the outline of an angel-head. For a 
moment it rested upon the darker side,, 
dulling the brightness adjacent, and send- 
ing over the blue part of the heavens a mel- 
low light, not unlike the glow from a 
meteor^s flight. 

With hearts tumultuously beating, and 
eyes wondering and intent, we stirred not,, 
until a form, all white and shining, poised 
itself upon the slender horn of the heavenly 
body, like one ready for flight. Even in 
that far-off view, the lustre was too great. 
For we covered our eyes, that all at once 
were aching with the far-off gazing. But 
the inclination to look became so strong, 
the hope of something to be given us so im- 
pelling, that every eye was drawn to that 
overhanging blue, where some phenomenon 
was taking place. 

The angel bent forward. 


124 Panorama of Sleep* 

A thrill sped through each watcher* Was 
he about to descend to earth ? For the at- 
titude was surely that of downward flight* 
Lifting the cross from its dark-blue resting- 
place, the angel uprose and held it on high, 
as if awaiting some mandate from beyond 
that sealed space* 

The cross moved; the messenger carried 
it forward; and — as if choosing from 
among us — by a downward sweep of that 
glittering cross — that symbol of faith to 
which I was surely striving to rivet my soul, 
as well as eyes — indicated certain ones that 
sat beside me* 

But the doubting that assails all mortals, 
that heeding of the imps of perverseness, 
clamored in my ears, and told me to fly* 
Nothing further would be known* Why 
not dismiss all hope from which no joy 
would arise ? But my consciousness stayed 
me, and I closed my ears to the doubteFs 
words* 

^^Will he pass me by thought I — "T, the 
yearning one at the end of the line, who fear 
no observation, knowing my inferiority?*' 


In the Moon^s Circlet* 


125 


The pause became painful, and I lowered 
my eyes; it seemed hardly given me to 
expect. 

Some one touched me lightly on the 
sleeve. It was the one next to me, who 
had evidently seen a further marvel. 

^^Lookr^ she mtirmtired; and my eyes 
were upheld. 

The angefs head appeared turned, the 
ear arrested, as if awaiting some message. 
With clasped hands and heaving breast, I 
waited. I saw the tip of the golden em- 
blem; I saw it come toward me, and I 
strove to grasp the slender barb of gold 
that fell athwart the white wool of my 
gown. 

Three times it descended toward me. 
Three times I gave thanks and fell upon 
my knees. The vision was too ecstatic for 
silence. Thankfulness brimmed over and 
escaped me. 

How long I remained there, I did not 
know. How long the others were away, I 
could not surmise. I seemed only to wait, 
on bended knees, in the solitude and silence 


i26 Panorama of Sleep. 

of that night-time hour, and wonder at 
what had come into my life. 

When I withdrew my eyes from the dew- 
gleaming sodt and held them high to God^s 
entrance-gatest the angel had gone. The 
moon presented its tistial exterior. It was 
a calm summer night — nothing more. I 
must have been asleep, alone, out there, 
with no friendly soul to share my solitude. 
Yet my mind regained its clearness, the 
mist of mystery disappeared ^neath the 
lumin of faith, and I remembered the 
wooden bench, my companions, our vigil. 

^^Gone!^^ I exclaimed in wonderment, 
and I pondered at their flight. 

Through the fast-closing night, I betook 
my way toward the distant lamp, that 
threw its beacon-rays upon my forward 
path, and seemed a star in my cottage- 
window. 

**The number was three,^^ I cogitated; 
^"theirs, one. What meaneth the differ- 
ence?^^ 

**Three is His holy number,*^ came a 
whisper, ^"and signifies a true call. Thine 


In the Moon's Circlet* 


127 


was the one, therefore; for in it all chosen- 
ess lay* Forget not the distinction; it is 
seldom accorded." 

And I left the night; I left the doubting 
and the fearing: the lesson had been low- 
ered into the depths of my heart* 







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THE COUNTERPART 








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XIV. 

THE COUNTERPART 


Three times I had met the figure. Once^ 
when the lanes were white with blossoms, 
and the twilight had closed the gates of 
day. It stood — as I looked up and met 
its gaze — down near the silver poplar, that 
showed its shining leaflets to the sister- 
trees. 

The figure startled me then, though it 
spake no word; for it appeared not a crea • 
ture of flesh and blood, only an illusion of 
the optical nerve. And I hastened on, look- 
ing neither to the right nor left, nor back- 
ward, but gazing with that direct and per- 
sistent gaze that comes to the suddenly- 
awed. But I had caught a side-glimpse of 
the face. It was one I knew more nearly 
than any other. It was one that held me, 
willing or unwilling, do what I might. 

When I met it again, the glitter of hun- 

\ 3 \ 


132 


Panorama of Sleep* 


dreds of lights streamed down upon a 
halh in which a goodly company was 
assembled* Twinkling feet, forms swaying 
and circling in mazy measures, timed to 
the ryhthm of harp-swept strings and 
orchestral instruments, made gay the 
scene* 

Then the figure stood very near me, 
and, in a voice made audible to me 
alone, thus addressed mine ear: 

^^Why dost thou remain? One can see 
that thou art restless; else thy face would 
assume the satisfaction this hour brings* 
If happiness be not here, seek it elsewhere**^ 

^^Who art thou?^' asked I, overcome 
with curiosity* 

But the speaker's face was turned a 
trifle away, and, though the turn of the 
head, the curves in the body, and the out- 
line seemed strangely familiar as the other, 
I could not vouch entirely* 

^^One that is always near thee,^^answered 
the figure* ^^Waking or sleeping, I am 
there, and ever shall be till moons shall wax 
and wane, and I be summoned elsewhere,^^ 


The Counterpart. 133 

The tone was grave and kindly, and 
stirring with soul. 

^^Why takest thou such interest was 
my next question, prone to wonder at 
such a follower. ^*The world is wide, and 
the world is careless; few turn out of a 
path for another; yet thou watchest me, 
thou hast told me. 

^^Yea, and always. Each step of thine 
is also mine. Each thought of mine I 
would make thine; for I know thee 
better than thou knowest thyself. Let me 
be near thee. Give heed and credence to 
my words. It may be well for thine out- 
look.^^ 

Some one drew near — one of the gay 
throng — and spoke to me. ^^You look 
strangely quiet,^' said he. ^Tshaw, that 
wonT do for a scene of this kind. Flee 
from thoughts that make you look so 
serious. Come, let us join the dance. Be 
like the others, please; be gay and happy. 

In a moment I had accepted his sug- 
gestion. Whirling, smiling, tripping 
lightly I was again ^^one of the rest.^^ 


134 Panorama of Sleep. 

The figore stood and looked at me. A 
pleading gaze was in the eye — a look as of 
one left sadly to oneself — forsaken, friend- 
less. 

I must go I** I cried suddenly; for 
I saw the beckoning hand in the distance. 

^^What is it? Are you ill, or disturbed, 
or has something affected this transfor- 
mation? You have been only twice round 
the room.^^ 

am not well,^' I replied, and he led me 
to a chair. 

Standing for a while, he gave me a cu- 
riotjs look; then asked, ^^Shall I bring you 
something? A glass of wine to rouse you? 
Let me, please V* 

**Nof** I cried, ^^only bring my friend 
here; I shall go away with her — now — at 
once*^ 

Before a half-hour had elapsed, the car- 
riage was rolling home in the moonlight. 
Near me sat the figure — shadowy but- 
recognized and felt; felt like the presence 
of a protector, in whose care I should never 
lose confidence. 


The Counterpart, 535 

In a valley far removed from the haunts 
of men, I once more saw the figure. It 
was clad in habiliments of sadness; the 
long hair streamed upon the wind, and the 
long, cloak fluttered like a black-winged 
bird upon the breeze. 

I drew nearer, thinking to question her; 
for sincere and deep seemed her sorrow, 
*^Why dost thou weep?"^ I asked; and 
the sound of my own voice in that deserted 
region caused me to tremble. 

She did not answer, but rocked the more^ 
^'Dost thou refuse sympathy I queried, 
^^One should appreciate it here,^^ And I 
looked round at the deserted spot, where 
the trees leaned quietly toward me, and 
the seal of silence was on the lips of Nature, 
Why hast thou it only when here the 
figure asked. ^^Thou knowest me, hast 
met me, seen me before. Dost remember 
The voice was familiar as mine own; but 
the ring was sad and plaintive. Some- 
thing reproachful was in the silent pose of 
the woman, something that awakened me 
to query. 


136 Panorama of Sleep. 

^*Hast thon awght against me?"^ asked I. 
^Though thy path seems always mine, yet 
recall I no time when I have repulsed, 
scorned, or ill-treated thee. What wouldst 
thou have me do? Tell me, I pray theeT' 
For I felt a close link between that woman 
and me 

**1 would have thee thyself she ex 
claimed, looking down in deep thought" 
**1 would have thee, at all times, and in al^ 
places, the genuine stamp of womanhood* 
Live to have no fear, and stand not in awe 
of those that crush thy better thoughts. 
What art thou upon this planet, a reality, 
or one tricked in disguises? Remember 
my injunction I** 

A cold shiver, indicative of truth, came 
with her words. Here rested, I felt, one 
that knew my inmost soul, and impressed 
me with the knowledge. That she had 
been sent to confront me, I felt sure. 

me thy name,^^ I asked slowly; 
**1 must know thee better.^^ 

^"Thou knowest it. Hast heard it from 
the beginning of thy memory.'^ 


The Counterpart. 137 

Bnt I shook my head m donbt. 

will heed all that thon directest; I 
will bear thee in mind,*^ I cried, ^^btit I 
most see thee ere thou goest; some dis- 
tance may yet divide us,^^ 

^That resteth with thee,^^ she answered, 
and, turning, raised her face to mine. 

In startled wonder I rubbed mine eyes. 
In awe, in silence, I gazed full into the face. 
It was mine own — a little softened, per- 
haps, but alike in feature, contour, and 
expression. 

^'Dost thou know me now? Then thou 
must know me always. I am thy better 
self.^^ And she held my quivering hands, 
while a great peace came unto me. 



XV. 

THE WRAITHS OF TIME 







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XV. 

THE WRAITHS OF TIME 

A misty half-light enveloped the fields^ 
The evening was merging into the night, 
and the antnmn landscape flashed less 
brightly on the horizon-line, where gray 
and low the sky-backgronnd hnng. Upon 
the maples near the road a few leaves trem- 
bled — the bare bonghs next to them only 
waiting till they rejoined their sister-com- 
panions, twirling to the shrill tnne of the 
October blast as it soughed drearily 
through the once-verdant tree-tops. 

My feet crunched upon the hard earth 
with an energy and a sound that kept me 
peculiarly alive in that deadening earth- 
look. And, as scraping twig and falling 
leaf brushed my garb, I felt as if living 
things appealed to me to heed them. 

A determination came in that misty 
hour, a yearning to be up, about, and con- 
t4t 


M2 Panorama of SIcep2 

versant with the realm of wrecking life 
before me* For my ears were attuned to 
the slightest sound, and something had 
brushed the film from my eyes, once care- 
less and defective in vision* I could see 
the old gray church through the fading 
light* The irregular pile loomed wild and 
fantastic from where I stood, and the rooks 
flew homeward to their nests in the jutting 
eaves as if glad to escape the dreariness 
without* I could see them in the gray 
light — black as through a smoke-curl— 
beating the air with their tired wings* 

A strange light came from the windows 
in the old gray place — a light as from a 
waxen glow within* The verger had gone 
home* Long before I had beheld his stoop- 
ing form, and heard his wheezy cough vieing 
with the night- wind* It could not then be 
he* ^^What made the strange light I 
asked myself* 

Coming nearer, I saw outlines like forms 
pass over the panes* They were many, 
and in successive appearing, much like a 
train of flying figures that have some 


The Wraiths of Time. 


143 


course in view, and need to be pursued with 
steady range to keep within vision. I 
heard a murmuring. It came from the 
leaves, I was sure, or from the mourning 
tree-tops, that stood straight and unflinch- 
ing to the chilling winds; or from the 
brown and blackened undergrowth about 
me — like a requie n chanted to the night- 
wind, to the soul that listened intent and 
earnest within me for a knowledge of the 
mystery that travels with time. 

Pausing near the broad low steps that 
indicated the church-entrance, I again 
waited for the song. It had ceased. For 
a while only, I assured myself. My eager- 
ness must know enlightenment. I had 
proceeded too far in the quest to return 
dismayed and ignorant. And the flying 
figures, where were they? The window- 
panes were dark again, and the ivy, hang- 
ing from the moldy walls, blackened them 
weirdly and solemnly. 

I sat down on the low step, and, folding 
my hands patiently, looked out into the 
darkness, of which I felt not a whit afraid. 


144 Panorama of Sleep. 

For I was a stone^s throw from my dwelling, 
and, if any one molested, I cotild cry for aid* 

As when one is silent and in solitude, 
thoughts of other days came crowding 
upon my consciousness. One would have 
thought the present engrossing enough — 
a longing to hear again the murmuring, to 
see, to know, and to glide into the future 
with the knowledge. But I, all-unfettered 
and alone, remembered much of the past, 
the chain of years, and knew not whether 
satisfaction or content came with the 
retrospection. 

My thought took deeper hold — held my 
consciousness like a judge that craved reply; 
and truthfully, unerringly, and directly I 
separated my past into two distinct degrees. 
Then I heard the murmuring. It came 
softly, and so low that with eager ear I 
bent to listen, and I peered without, feeling 
that the air was not void of presence; that 
I was connected with it all — a circum- 
stance that inclined me to a sure hope of 
information. 

A moment had hardly passed ere a white- 


The Wraiths of Time, 


U5 

ness, apparently from the earth, nprose, 
and soared into the air, wheeling low about 
me, and followed by many others that 
chanted a song to my now-awakened ear. 
And this is the refrain that came: 

**^e are the years of thy long ago. 
Children of Time are we: 

Hither and thither like winds we blow 
Nothing of life to thee. 

'^Wasted and frail are these once-bold 
forms. 

Never thy love had we; 

Therefore we drift through the present's 
storms. 

Wailing our theme to thee.^^ 

**Thee- - 1 thee- - 1** filled my ear with an 
agony of self-reproach as they wheeled low 
about me, and looked into mine eyes with a 
mournful gaze. 

I clenched my hands tightly. Why had 
these wraiths sought me out in the evening 
stillness? Much as a murderer would feel. 


146 Panorama of Sleep. 

felt I* A responsibility that was mine 
had been disregarded* I had smothered 
the life o«t of those promising ones and 
left them by the roadway* And now they 
had traced me, and filled mine ears with the 
repinings and the wailings of lost selves* 

I placed my hand to mine ears to shnt 
ottt the sonnd* A flood of recollections 
assailed me; and there, hemmed abont by 
darkness, distress, and reproach I re- 
mained* Bnt the close pressure of my 
fingers npon mine ears could not entirely 
shut out the sound* It was singing in my 
heart — singing audibly to mine inner ear* 
I could stand it no longer* Arising, as 
with sudden desperation, I looked above 
me ere I made my way homeward* 

Still they circled and circled, those 
wraiths of Time* Where traveled they? 
No eternity held them* They were not 
even earthly* I had condemned them to 
a lower fate* What wonder they wailed 
and were restless ! Naught else could 
come to them; naught but a drifting, like 
the dying leaves that spotted the outlook* 


The Wraiths of Time. 


H7 

Yet the dead leaves were not wholly useless. 
Some law governed their decay, and 
assigned them to a space where a doty was 
theirs. 

^‘Nothing dies V* came to my ear with the 
force of conviction. 

The light of immortality flooded my 
spirit, and a hope, new and beautiful, came 
tinto me. I was not afraid of those wraiths 
that circled above me. 

^^Can I not speak with them,^* thought 
I, ^*and assure them of peace and a haven?'' 

I f^It that they were part of myself, — my 
existence, — and my doty lay unto them. 
Therefore I called lotidly upon the night 
air, and my voice smote the stillness like a 
trumpet-call. 

'"Return!" quoth I, "return I Let me 
speak with thee I" 

"Where — fore?" came the cry, "where- 
fore?" 

And the October wind shrieked "Where- 
fore?" 

And the rooks flew otit from their jutting 
ledges and screamed "Where fore?" 


\43 Panorama of Sleep. 

And my heart cried Wherefore and a 
long pause came to me ere I cotild frame a 
reply. 

**1 need thee,^^ I cried alotid and beseech- 
ing. need thee for the present^ the 
future, as a reminder, a stimtilns, a gtiide- 
company.^' ^^Canst refusal come from 
thee, 0 wandering ones?^^ 

With arms outstretched, I stood. More 
chilliness enveloped me, more dreariness 
impressed me, yet I could not rest nor leave 
that spot until my peace was secure. 

Then again I heard the murmuring. High 
from above the tree-tops it came, and 
through the inky tracery of the bare boughs 
the misty, white forms floated. I kept my 
eyes upon them — held as by some strong 
fascination, until lower, wheeling in a spiral 
column, they returned to earth and to me. 
Just above the earth-space they paused, 
not immovable, but rocking slightly from 
right to left, as if their restlessness could 
never leave them. 

Then spake I, with heart full of truth: 
*^Do not wander more ! Come and be with 


The Wraiths of Time. 


149 


thy sister-ones. Merge thyselves into the 
present; go with me into the future, and 
count thyselves that part of my existence 
that shall never be forgotten. Looking 
upon thee, brings purpose unto me. Taking 
thee unto myself, strengthens and guides 
me. Without thee no future would have 
been mine. With thee, life is real V* 

A low murmur of satisfaction came from 
that white company, and the restlessness 
among them was not so apparent. 

Then came a bright One unto me, and, 
touching me lightly on the shoulder, said: 
**Trust them to me. I will see that they 
are counted in thy train.*^ 

^^And whom art thou, with the gentle 
voice and the promise?'^ 

**1 am the Present Year,^^ answered he, 
and his face glowed with a brightness that 
endeared him to me, and instilled hope into 
mine heart. ^T am full of strength, of 
energy, of purpose. Let me have charge 
of them. Action and earnestness will make 
them as 

He waited for my assent. 


J50 Panorama of Sleep. 

^"As thon wilt/' I replied, feeling perfect 
trust toward the stranger. 

And he arose and breathed into each ear 
a command. And the wasted forms held 
themselves erectly, the heads poised with 
hope, and the restlessness vanished, giving 
place to a force that impressed me imme- 
diately. Forming a circle about me, I 
looked from one to the other. Each face 
was alive with strength, and I heard no 
more the wail and the mtirmtir. 

^^Whither go ye?^^ asked I, as they pre- 
pared to leave me. 

^^Throtigh space. Each new one joins 
tis until thine allotted time is complete and 
we see thee there** and they looked heaven- 
ward. 

^^Btit why not remain nearer I pleaded; 
^^thy presence aids me, I know.^' 

^^Not so,^^ replied the bright One. '^Mon- 
opoly is selfish. We make way for the 
others. Only I am a while longer with 
thee. Of me thoti canst think, but not en- 
tirely. Resting never made achievement, 
therefore *on* must be thy watch-word.^' 


The Wraiths of Time. 




Like another Iifet I stood and heeded* 
Naught was wasted now. Possibilities, 
action, everything was before me. And 
the moon rose over the gray church pile, 
and flooded the windows, the ivy, and the 
dying earth-life about me with yellow light. 

Btft the wraiths were lost to view. 



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XVI. 

THE BRIDGE OF DESTINY 



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XVI. 

THE BRIDGE OF DESTINY 

The bridge was long and narrow* Be- 
neath it, the river — dark, turbulent, and 
grewsome. Lashing the shore with a 
leviathan force, bellowing upon the silence 
like a monster voice, it claimed my hearing*. 
The shore toward which I traveled seemed 
not far; soon would it be attained, the 
traveling not irksome. Then I saw that I 
was but one of many that stepped upon the 
self-same route. 

^^Seekers, like myself,** I exclaimed. 

Verily, some magnet draweth us.** And 
I bent me more eagerly forward. 

Some curiosity bade me examine the 
garb of my fellow-travelers, their linea- 
ments, their steps. For I felt alone in 
that cloud-hung country — I needed a word 
or two of cheer. A hand clutched at my gar- 
ment. The touch was nervous, unsteady. 
155 


156 


Panorama of Sleep. 


is some one I most help,^^ I thought; 
^^some weak, uncertain stranger to whom 
traveling is new.^' 

Looking down, I beheld a form as of 
some Shade. Then another, and another, 
until four or five followed in my train. 

"^Have ye no safety in foothold?*^ I 
questioned; ^^no will to deport yourselves 
uprightly?^' for the forms appeared low, 
crouching, clinging, and persistent. 

**We belong to thee ! Gur place is here,^^ 
exclaimed one bolder than the rest. ^^Look 
thee about! Thou art not the only way- 
farer with satellites.^* 

In that hurrying throng, in that teeming 
atmosphere of good and ill, I marked many 
at whose garments the queer forms were 
crouching. 

^^Whom are ye?** asked I. ^^Why 
haunt ye my footsteps? No aid cometh 
from any one of thee. Begone, and let me 
be free to pursue my path! Too long 
have ye detained me.** 

At the words, direct and clear, the little 
train loosed their hold, as if aghast. But 


The Bridge of Destiny. f57 

the foremostt to whom speech was not 
craven, thus replied: 

^^We are the Powers that beset thee. 
The world and its dwellers engender tis,. 
laxtiry, idleness and greed foster tis, and 
wherever a human walks, there walk we 
too.'^ 

^"Not with all?^^ I exclaimed, astonished 
at the speaker's boldness, and looking 
about to perceive if there were not some 
that rebuffed such advances. 

Then saw I a number that walked on the 
other side of the huge structure, and their 
faces were mild and peaceful. Their steps 
were elastic and buoyant; no grim crea- 
tures attended them. 

*"Why am I not there?" thought I, 
looking across to where my rightful place 
appeared. 

But the crouching ones citing more 
firmly to my garments; they saw my hesi- 
tation, my slowing steps. In desperation 
I shook them off and stood as one at bay; 
for many were before me, outstripping me 
in the journey. The laggers were on my 


158 


Panorama of Sleep. 


side, I conid plainly see, and the crouch- 
ing ones detained them. 

''Turn back,'^ cried one; ^'it is more 
pleasant back here;^^ and she pointed to 
the shore jnst left. 

B«t I heeded not her tongue, and, in 
sudden thought, I crossed to the other 
path. 

Howling with baffled rage, their voices 
made miserable the air. With extended 
finger-points they uttered imprecations- 
that caused me to shudder for a moment 
only; for I found the peaceful faces about 
me, and the journeying became a purpose 
and a delight. Upon that side the air was 
purer. No longer a heaviness oppressed 
me, nor vapors uprose from the river. I 
was now one of a moving throng, that 
cheered me at times with pleasant saluta- 
tions and queries. 

*^Dost thou too go to the country?^' 
asked they. For beyond the iron gates that 
stood at the farther bridge-end, I saw a 
land of verdure. 

**1 go with the rest,"" was my reply; 


159 


The Bridge of Destiny » 

^^some One bade me take either way* This 
is the right one, I know, for something 
encourageth and maketh glad my heart.^' 

And the voices that responded were low 
and sweet, and I looked not to the other 
side of the bridge, where the laggers were. 
The heaven was losing its grayness. 
Light was bespreading that part over 
which small clonds had scnrried, and the 
evening-red was approaching the West. 

The country, seen from the bridge, 
through the huge iron gates, was rich with 
verdure, and pink with blossoms. A long- 
ing to tread those by-ways, to whiff the 
balminess that carries itself there, was 
strong within me. Some travelers were at 
the gates: I could see the huge lengths 
swing open to afford them a pass-way. 

My steps became fleeter; I feared being 
left without; for some of those on the 
other side had long turned back to the 
rearward shore. 

In a moment I had realized the nearness 
of my position. Stimulated by the knowl- 
edge, I did not pause until I passed, with 


160 


Panorama of Sleep* 


fellow-travelerst through the entrance, 
beyond which my dreams, hopes, and soul- 
cravings dwelt, and where a beautiful rest 
stole gently upon me* 

For it was given me no more to wander* 






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